The trick worked like a charm, and I was out by like 8 AM.

Not kidding, a squirrel woke me up. I had set up camp right underneath a big tree, and this squirrel had decided to whittle away at some acorns directly above me. Every time he/she would discard some shell, it would land on my tent. I woke up to raining nuts and squirrel chewing.

I opened up my tent, and I realized it was too chilly to pack everything up and hit the road. So, I grabbed my bear bag and made my way to their bathroom. The place was great: it had heat! So I broke out my food, and I enjoyed some PB no J’s in some killer ambience.

After I had my fill, I went back, broke camp and packed up. It was a beautiful, clear morning, and I had a seemingly short trip to Newport News. I was in a great mood and decided to throw on a pair of bike shorts that I hadn’t worn yet. It was almost too much excitement to handle.

Everything was packed nice and tight, and so I threw on my bike shoes and saddled up. And that’s when it started. As soon as I sat down, I knew it was wrong. I guess I must have already lost a little waistline since I started, and these shorts were a little big to start with. Have you ever tried to bike in padded shorts that are too big for you? It was almost unbearable. They kept falling down and the padding would dangle around my knees. But I’m pretty stubborn, and I didn’t want to unpack all the stuff I had done. I decided to forge ahead–it was supposed to be a quick little 30 some miler anyway, so I pulled those bad boys up to my belly button and chugged along.

Williamsburg is awesome. I wish I had more time to check out the sites, but I did find time to ride through William & Mary. The whole area was pretty cool, and no one seemed to be fazed by yours truly. I guess the place has been around long enough that it’s seen everything, and they don’t like to bother with some updates.

I  got through campus and went on to try and find this trail that would take me around the city of Newport News and to my destination point. I must had ridden around for 45 minutes looking for the damn trail. I would check it on my maps and ride to where the trail was supposed to be, and it just wasn’t there. I broke out my iPhone, and I still could not seem to find it. It was unbelievable. So, I decided to stay on roads and just go through Newport News a different way.

Let me just preface this: Mom, I was fine. So, I found this road called the “Pocahontas Trail.” I thought that this sounded nice and it looked like it was going to take me to Newport News. I think they just renamed the road in this area to join in on the Busch Garden theme. Well, to get to this trail, I had to cross this huge set of railroad tracks, and in order to do this, I had to go on an overpass. The overpass happened to spit me out on a pretty major road.

As I climbed the on-ramp, I  saw a sign that said “no bicycles, skateboards, rollerblades, etc. allowed on highway.” I like to think it wasn’t a real highway, and I made it all better in my own head by saying that I was an exception: I was not getting on the highway, I was merely using the “weave lane” on the right side and using the off-ramp on the other end of the railroad tracks. The “weave lane” is not the highway, right?

It also happened to be the time of day when the local inmates got to mow the lawn on this exit ramp. Perfect. I had about five dudes staring and yelling at me as I climbed my way onto my precious “weave lane.”

But seriously, there was not a car in sight, and nobody goes to Busch Gardens in November, anyway. I was completely fine, and it finally got me to a road that would put me on my way.

Well, the Pocahontas trail is just a little two-lane state road that is like every other road I had been on recently. It was also fully covered in foliage and the sun was nowhere to be found. The wind picked up, and I put my head down and charged. Oh, and I forgot to mention that this road turned the trip into more of a 45 miler.

I finally made it to Newport News. The sun was completely gone, and the wind had completely replaced it. It was that Nor’Easter day (of course), and I was riding directly into that cold air. It was very slow going, and I was freezing.

To get to Virginia Beach from Newport News, you have to go through a tunnel. I learned that there was no chance I could ride my bike through it, but I had arranged to have my good buddy, Sean Lillard, pick me up and take me across to VB.

I just needed to get through Newport News to our pick-up point. I thought I was going to get there super early and find a Starbucks where I could catch up on my blog. Well, I barely made it by our agreed time.

On my way though town I started to notice groups of people standing outside of big brick buildings. Knowing how perceptive I am, it didn’t take me long to put two and two together–just like 40 miles or so–It was Election Day! People were pissed about standing in line for hours, and they were driving like assholes. I don’t blame them–if you can’t tell, I was not having a good day either, and I was probably riding like an asshole, too.

Needless to say, I was SO happy to see Sean. We packed my trailer and bike in/on his car and we crossed into Virginia Beach.

He’s taking a few classes, and he had a test to take at ODU. I figured I could make some headway on my blog, so I found my way to the library and killed some time writing. I missed the memo that you are supposed to wear muted colors on college campuses, so my bright red jacket and the fact that I had no idea where I was going really helped me to stand out. I also felt extremely old.

As you can tell, this was one of my worst day of riding. It all started with those dog-gone shorts. Next chance I get, I am shipping them home, either there or save on postage and throw them in a local dumpster.

It was funny, as soon as I got out of those things and showered up at the Lillard’s beautiful home, I felt so much better. We had a wonderful dinner and it was great to catch up with one of my favorite Gonzaga families.

I had a grand old time with the Lillards. In the morning, Sean and I went to an iconic Virginia Beach diner for breakfast at the Belvedere. No real story here, just that we got to watch the waves roll in up close over some egg sando’s.